


turn at last to home afar

by SpicyReyes



Series: the road goes ever on [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Modern Era, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 19:33:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyReyes/pseuds/SpicyReyes
Summary: A young woman meets an old man on a bus, and is instantly curious.He turns out to be a lot sadder a man than she expected.





	turn at last to home afar

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing a Merlin fic and this is going to be a sort of prequel so here ya go friendos

Janet Dawson took the bus once a week to go visit her grandmother, who lives in a weird little run-down shack by a lake that she describes regularly as  _ magical,  _ despite the fact that Janet was pretty sure the water in it was toxic, given the weird glow the beach seemed to have sometimes. 

She picked up the habit when her grandmother got sick over the summer, and she realized how hard it is for the woman to get anything from town, given that she rarely ever  _ leaves.  _

The reason she kept it up was because her grandmother still needed things sometimes, and needed company more, but also because of a face that was persistently on the bus every Sunday morning she climbed into it. 

The man was old, probably homeless, and very possibly senile. He always seemed distracted, staring blankly ahead, but he got off at the same stop as her and walked straight up to the lake, and then just  _ sat _ there. 

Janet’s grandmother had listen to her recap the strange behavior of the old man on her second visit, and informed her, “Oh, that’s Emil. He’s very sweet, actually.” 

Apparently, Emil was an old man that had been around forever who no one actually seemed to know much about, other than that he was at the lake every single day from the earliest hours of the morning to just after sunset. She didn’t know where he lived, if he had a house at all, but he was on the bus before she got on it in the mornings and he was still by the water when she went home each afternoon.

So, in typical Janet fashion - she was a pediatric nurse, she was good at compassion! - she decided she was going to try and puzzle out the odd man, and try to help him, if she could.

It was a couple of months before she made up her mind on it, but once she did, she didn’t waste time. 

One Sunday, she boarded the bus, walked right up to the man’s seat, and asked, “Can I sit with you?”

The old man turned bleary eyes to her, and she was struck by how sharp a blue they were. He blinked a few times, then, and seemed to...wake up. As though he’d simply been sleepwalking up to that point.

He gave a wide, crooked grin, which somehow managed to look more joyful than manic. “Of course, of course!” He slid aside, patting the seat beside him eagerly. “Sorry about that, I was lost in my own head. Pardon an old man his oddities.” 

She gave a small laugh, sitting next to him. “I’m not bothered.” As she settled back, Janet prompted, “I see you on this bus every time I get on, and I figured I may as well try and say hello.”

The man - Emil, her grandmother had said? Ah, she was awful with names - snapped his gaze back to her, and for a second, she froze. The stare seemed deep, as though he was looking straight through her, and she fought the urge to bolt.

Just as quickly as it came, though, the feeling was gone, and the man was smiling again. 

“I visit the lake every day,” he said. “And I suspect I will keep doing so until the earth lets me go.” 

A weird way to phrase death, she thought, but kept it to herself. Instead, she prompted, “Don’t you ever get sick of the lake?”

The man’s face went slack, only for a moment, and the grin returned looking forced and harsh. “Ah, yes, actually,” he admitted, and she was shocked to hear a slightly  _ bitter  _ tone in his voice. “No one has cared for it, so it’s quite dirty and the water smells odd, and no one cares to put anything nice around it or even call it by a name! But, I made a promise, and that promise I will keep.”

She frowned. “You promised to keep visiting the lake?”

The man’s face relaxed again, and before she could say anything else - apologize, maybe - he seemed to slide back into that strange trance-state. “Yes,” he murmured, voice soft and distant. “But I’m starting to think maybe I promised too easily.” 

She didn’t say anything the rest of the bus ride, and when she got off, she was surprised to see she got off alone. 

  
  


“You spoke to him?” Janet’s grandmother, a sweet and short lady named Anne, asked. “That’s nice. He could use more friends, that one.”

“I think I upset him,” Janet confessed. “He didn’t get off the bus today.”

Anne froze in place, where she was fussing over her cooking, and turned to look at her granddaughter with a pale face and wide eyes. “Janet,” she said, slowly. “Twelve years I’ve lived in this house, and I cannot remember a single day where Emil has not been crouched by that water, staring at the island like it holds the world’s secrets. If he didn’t come today...I don’t know what that means.” 

Janet felt oddly sick. Had she upset the man that much? What had she even  _ said?  _ She couldn’t remember clearly anything that might have kept the man from his daily habit. 

The rest of the visit passed in a tense quiet, until Anne looked out the window toward the sea and let out a happy squeal. 

“What is it?” Janet asked, rushing over. “What’s going on?”

“He’s back!” Anne said, pointing out the window.

Janet followed her finger to see the old man from the bus sitting on the shoreline again, his back facing them where she couldn’t see his face.

“...I’m going to talk to him again,” she said. “I want to apologize for whatever upset him.”

Anne pat her on the shoulder. “Be kind, dear. He’s always been very sad.”

Janet pulled on a thin jumper to protect against the sharp breeze of early autumn and headed up to the beach. As she approached, she froze in step, listening to what she was likely not meant to hear. 

“I’m sorry,” the old man was whispering, voice harsh and broken, as though he’d been crying. “Freya, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to abandon you, but it’s so hard. I have waited for so long, I’ve forgotten how much time has passed. I said I’d wait a million hours, but I’ve lived those million ten times over and I’m  _ still  _ not at his side again.” She watched the man slip the tips of his fingers into a tiny splash of water on the sand. “I promised I would wait here, but one man cannot bear this much alone.” 

Janet took a step back, prepared to leave - she was clearly intruding - when the man’s head snapped up, and he turned back, the wide ice-blue eyes staring straight through her again.

She tensed, but the man only gave a small, sad smile.

“Ah,” he said, shifting to stand. “I probably sound crazy to you, sitting out here, talking to a lake.” He paused, tipping his head. “Well, not the lake, per say. The lady in it.” 

Dear lord, he really was senile. Janet gave a tense and polite smile, and a nod of fake understanding.

Emil frowned at her. “Oh, I’ve made it worse. No, you see-...” He huffed, shifting. “Alright, no way around it. My friend died and was laid to rest here.” He waved to the lake - buried on the island, perhaps? Or ashes scattered in the lake? It didn’t really matter, she supposed. “I speak to her daily, and one day perhaps she’ll answer.” He looked back out to the sea, face looking sad again. “I’ve stopped even paying attention to what I do when I’m not here, to be honest. I must eat and sleep sometime, but all I ever care to remember are the things I’ve told her.” He laughed. “Quite patient, she is, listening to me babble for this long. Or maybe she’s tuned me out entirely!” He gave a very animated shrug. “I have no way of knowing, now, do I?”

“You can hope,” she offered. “If you promised her you’d visit her, I’m sure she’s listening.”

Emil looked surprised for a second, before giving a short laugh. “I didn’t promise her I’d visit her, not really.” He looked around, before looking back to Janet. “Though I don’t suppose the full story is much nicer.”

“I’d like to hear it, still,” Janet said. “If you’re alright with sharing.”

Emil stared at her, before giving an honest and genuine smile, one she hadn’t seen yet. It was not his desperately happy grin nor his forced joy, but instead something truly pleased. “Well. It’s long and dull, really, but I’ll give you the short of it.” He sat down in the sand, patting the ground next to her, like he had on the bus. She approached and sat by him obediently, turning politely to listen. 

Emil tipped his head back, eyes going slightly distant, but more in the way of a man reminiscing than the strange trance from earlier. “When I was very, very young - a good long time ago, and somehow the only thing I can remember clearly - I moved to live with a family friend, who would take me under his wing and train me to take over his…” He paused, pursing his lips. “Ah, I suppose it would be considered a pharmacy or something, these days. Herbal medicines and homeopathy, as well as places to stay and extended healthcare for those who had no other place to seek it.” 

“Sounds nice,” Janet said. “I’m a nurse, myself.”

Emil smiled at her. “Ah, then you’re already much better than I was. I couldn’t have fixed more than a small cut on my own! Not through herbal medicine, at least. All my knowledge came from reading books I wasn’t even supposed to own.” 

She didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter, because he didn’t pause for questions.

“Regardless, I made it to the city, found the friend - he became like an uncle to me, so I will call him that way for the sake of understanding. My uncle got me settled into my room and then told me to explore the city a bit. Learn where things were, meet new people, that sort of thing.” His face turned into a look of wry amusement. “And, of course, being the child I was - an absolute terror - I walked right into this big muscly jerk and his similarly large and intimidating friends picking on a smaller boy, and thought myself clever for stepping in.” He nudged Janet. “Here’s the fun bit: in those days, things were quite a bit different, and the man in charge of a city could do as he wished. And the big muscle-bound jerk I had tried to deck happened to be the son of the man who ran this city.”

“I imagine that went well.”

Emil laughed. “Of course, of course! I spent a night in a jail cell for my efforts, and the next day was subject to quite a bit of public ridicule.” 

“I’m sure the jerk was thrilled,” Janet offered. 

Emil winked. “Oh, he was, the absolute prat. I went on errands for my uncle, and he comes up to me out in the city center, asking how I enjoyed my night’s stay imprisoned.”

“Did you deck him?” Janet asked, unable to help it. 

“Did I hit him, she asks!” Emil threw his head back in a hefty laugh. “Not once! He was quite a bit bigger than me, I’ll remind you. No - I let him chase me around that city square, knocking over bits of wood and pails and all sorts of odds and ends to trip him up. I am not strong of body, but I am fast, and slippery when I need to be. He could have ground me into dust, if he caught me, but I wasn’t going to let that happen.” 

“What happened next?”

“My uncle stopped us before it got out of hand,” Emil told her. “And I expected to be dragged right back into that jail cell under an actual charge, but this great giant beast of a man looks me dead and the eye and says ‘There’s something  _ about  _ you.’” Emil’s face turned oddly fond, then. “I was trying to figure out what that meant for quite a while. I’ll admit, I’m still not entirely sure what he meant. Something good? Something bad? Something generally odd? Who knows?” 

“How did this lead to your promise?” Janet prompted

“I’m getting to it,” Emil assured her. “The city’s leader and his giant prat of a son got it in their heads that his son needed an assistant, and somehow got the wild idea that should be me.” 

“You worked for him?” 

“Oh, yes,” Emil said. “And he was quite sadistic about it. Loved to give me  _ ridiculous _ jobs. I once spent an entire meeting at his side in this gigantic silly hat, simply because he made it a rule I needed to.” He scratched at his nose, considering. “I think he might have burned it, later. He called it an eyesore and an abomination. Then again, he might have meant me.”

“That’s horrible.”

Emil smiled. “Yes, quite. He was awful...at first. But the more I stood by him, the longer I served under him, the more I realized that he wasn’t really a terrible person. He was obnoxious, yes, and ridiculous and frustrating and all of that. But the worst bits of him were things he’d learned from his father. He’d been under the man’s thumb for so long he didn’t learn how to be a truly good man until he was already halfway to being a bad one. Once he got there, though…” The man’s eyes went misty. “I could not have asked for a better friend.” He shifted, reaching out to run his fingers through the sand. “One day, we were separated. War was waging all around us and I could not follow him where he needed to go.” She wondered which war he meant - he was quite old, but there were many large wars in the mid 20th century he would have been old enough for. “I made a promise that day that I’d be here when he came back. I’d meet him right here, on this beach, and I’d bring him home.”

Janet swallowed, because the man had been going to a beach every single day of his life for  _ years  _ to fulfil a promise to who was likely a dead soldier. “The internet has databases full of records you can access,” she told him. “Maybe you can track him down instead. He doesn’t have to come to the lake for you to get him home.”

Emil looked out over the water, eyes fixing on the island in the middle. 

“I could go to him, instead,” Emil mused. “You know, my dear girl, that isn’t a bad idea.” 


End file.
